Esther Friesner Quotes

Some people just don't stop to think; they're too busy swallowing nightmares whole.

Better a live whore than a dead virgin!

Amanda gave him the freeze, too. The blue demon hesitated, unsure of whether this snub was a rejection of his leadership or his dubious social standing. There were only a few demons in Debrett’s.

Time had passed. It will, given half the chance.

There are always miracles where there are children, and fascination for any tale that opens their eyes to marvels, whether or not they are sensible marvels. Even a pig knows that.

This—this guy is dead now, right?
Marguerite shrugged. "Death is such a fragile thing. Who knows? I've heard rumors, but you can't depend on anything these days. The greatest wizards of antiquity turn up with less warning than Hamptons houseguests."

Accidents happen; clothing does not.

“I’m not a Freudian.” Dr. Fitzgerald pronounced the word as if it were axe-murderer.

The shortest way to multiply damnations is to divide mortals. Fear’s a great one for that—fear the stranger, fear the different, fear the afflicted—long as you can keep your pigeons so damn scared there’s no room in them to even try to figure out whether there’s anything real to be scared of in the first place.

Listen, Noel, I don’t believe in the occult—not the dime store demonism all the right people are barking about. They see devils everywhere but in the mirror, and they raise such a hunting howl about it that they distract attention from the real evils. What I do believe is that there are great powers walking this world—forces for true good, forces for evil we can’t begin to imagine. Too many of the small-souled can only feel good by proving how bad everyone else is. They find it easier to turn a searchlight on some imaginary wickedness outside than to strike a single inner spark that might show them their own hearts.

Have lunch. It wasn’t anywhere near noon, but for food like this, they weren’t about to quibble. Suddenly the idea of going forth and smiting the heathen didn’t seem that attractive. Life is too short and sweet to waste it bludgeoning your brother into accepting your way of seeing Heaven.

“What is it about L.A.?”
“The Great Cosmic Belly Button that attracteth the spiritual lint of the universe,” Faith replied.

That didn’t really fit the facts or make very much sense, but as a theory it had a certain perverse appeal.

Sex is like the pursuit of wild mushrooms: Both are fascinating hobbies, both can prove most addictive, and both for the most part yield tasty results.
And yet, for the novice, there exists always the chance of making that one fatal mistake. Ah, but if one lives, one learns!

Satanism? In Whitman?
"Mmm-hmm." She threaded her arm through his. "You can find Satanism in everything if you've got the right sort of mind and you look hard enough."